I can wax poetic and make you look pathetic. I'm not so sympathetic I can't still be diarrhetic. Cause I'll make you shit with my rhetoric and I'll make you sick to your stomach, bitch, and if you can't sit down and you can't spit then I'll split you straight through the guts with this. I'll be pedantic, but predictable, all the while still irresistable, or miserable, dismissable, and yet, infinitely kissable. I'm cruel and foolish, leave you drooling, stupidly staring at the ceiling, feeling, reeling, bent on stealing breath and bet that I ain't missed yet, I'm caught in your throat and I'll break your neck. So sit the fuck down til you're next on deck.
I go from exotically erotic to neurotically despotic, despondent to resplendent, dependent to indispensable. Indefensible, ultimately reprehensible. I'll fetch you low and scratch your bones, burrow deep down in and find you home. I can spit you out like blood in my mouth, turn your insides out and make your women bow down.
You can come at me but I'll finish you, diminish you, replenish you just to get at you. You can leave or die, but its yours to choose. I have no appetite for destruction, I'm the epitome, so you're shitting me if you think running your lips means dick to me. Cause I'll tear your fucking head off and not even blink, I'll gut you like a trout, boy, so don't even think that you can come around, settle down, and flap off your gums, or I will shatter your teeth, just keep on sucking your thumb. I'm the stuff that makes your nightmares, and leaves you shitting your pants, so you can gamble on your life with me, but you don't have a chance.
Devastatingly Yours,
-S.R.
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